


Repairs

by Kayleegee



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Season 4, Summer of Reconciliation, little bit o' angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleegee/pseuds/Kayleegee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time, it’s Oliver that offers his help. Felicity is a bit stressed about all the repairs to the loft after Darhk’s attack. She had to hire someone to fix the window Oliver crashed through, but there’s spackle and painting over the bullet holes to do that he’s pretty sure he can handle, so he offers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repairs

The first time, it’s Oliver that offers his help. Felicity is a bit stressed about all the repairs to the loft after Darhk’s attack. She had to hire someone to fix the window Oliver crashed through, but there’s spackle and painting over the bullet holes to do that he’s pretty sure he can handle, so he offers.

Felicity accepts, a bit hesitant, and the entire time Oliver works, she hovers behind him, trying to make small talk. They’re awkward together in this state of domesticity. Oliver isn’t sure what to say, or act. He doesn’t have any agenda in helping Felicity, not really. He’s really just glad that she’s allowed him to be a part of her life. 

Felicity’s small talk is mostly asking about city hall, and Oliver’s new job, and from time to time, pointing out spots he’s missed. 

“I haven’t missed any spots, I just haven’t gotten to all of them yet,” Oliver sighs. 

Felicity shakes her head and moves towards one of the spots Oliver just finished patching. “Oh yeah? What’s this? Right here?” 

Oliver stands and spins around to look at the alleged missed spot, accidentally throwing spackle off his putty knife, right onto Felicity’s cheek and glasses causing her to shriek. 

He should be mortified and apologetic, but truth be told, all he can do is laugh. Felicity stands there, half her face covered in spackle, a bit in shock, as if she’s not sure what to do. Her eyes narrow as she takes in Oliver laughing. He immediately tries to stifle it, but her indignation just makes it worse.

“Oliver!” She yells, taking off her glasses and rushing to the kitchen for a towel.

“I’m sorry. Really, sorry,” Oliver says between breaths of laughter. He follows her into the kitchen, watching her clean off the spackle from her glasses and her face. 

By the time she’s cleaned off her face, she’s chuckling too, and Oliver sobers a moment as he realizes this is the first moment the two of them have had together that’s been remotely fun in quite a while. She catches his eyes, and there’s a long look between them that makes his heart nearly leap out his chest. 

And in that moment, Oliver allows himself to feel hope. 

***

Awhile after the spackle in the face, which Oliver laments not getting a picture of, Felicity asks him if he knows anything about garbage disposals. He doesn’t, and instead of spending the afternoon reading over the latest budget proposal for Star City Parks and Recreation, he reads about garbage disposal repair and plumbing. 

When he gets to the loft, after stopping at the lair to grab tools, he ends up walking to the door right behind the pizza delivery guy. 

Felicity opens the door to see Oliver paying the pizza guy. “Well, this could be an interesting opening to one of those adult entertainment films,” she smirks, before realizing that the pizza guy is all of 17 or 18, and both of them turn incredibly red as Oliver just shakes his head and pulls out another ten for the poor guy who cannot look either Oliver or Felicity in the eye and all but runs for the elevator. 

“Thanks,” Felicity says, cheeks still burning as she takes the pizza from Oliver. 

“No problem,” he returns, moving to the kitchen and looking into the sink. “So the garbage disposal?” 

“Yeah, it’s making this really awful sound. I think it’s clogged,” Felicity says. She sets the pizza down on the counter and grabs a water out of the fridge.

Oliver turns on the water, then the garbage disposal. Sure enough, there’s a crunching sound almost immediately. Oliver shuts it off, and opens the toolbox. 

“Did you not believe me about the sound?” Felicity asks cocking her head. 

Oliver huffs a bit, “I just wanted to see what was happening and where the sound was coming from.” He grabs an Allen wrench and crouches down underneath the sink. 

“Hey, can you grab the flashlight,” he calls to Felicity and a moment later there’s a blinding light in his eyes, causing him to involuntarily groan.

“Sorry!” Felicity says, pointing the light towards the garbage disposal motor. 

It takes a few moments for Oliver to locate the small socket hole he’s looking for, partly because his source of light is not constant. “Can you lift the flashlight a bit?” he asks Felicity, which she does diligently, for about 30 seconds before the light starts to waver a bit. After the third time, he yells her name in frustration and looks to her to see she’s holding the flashlight in one hand and holding her phone with the other, totally absorbed with what’s on the screen.

“Sorry! Palmer Tech stuff,” She says, and she makes a show of setting the phone down and holding the flashlight with two hands. Finally Oliver locates the socket hole and inserts the Allen wrench, manually turning the masher plate in the disposal back and forth, feeling resistance, but after a moment, the masher plate moves back and forth easily.

“I think I got it,” Oliver says, and they both stand up to try the disposal. Thankfully, the disposal runs as it should. 

“It’s purring like a kitten,” Felicity says before adding, “Albeit an angry kitten.” 

Oliver smiles, packing up his tools and washing his hands. “You’re all set.” He moves to pick up the toolbox, but Felicity stops him.

“Do you want some dinner?” She motions to the pizza. 

Oliver hesitates a moment before nodding, “Yeah, yeah sure.”

Felicity grabs the plates and napkins and Oliver takes the pizza to the kitchen table. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had a pizza from Mario’s,” Oliver comments, taking a slice.

Felicity takes a bite and sighs in contentment. “They’re on my speed dial. Although, I might have to find another pizza place after that poor delivery boy and my inability to shut up.”

Oliver chuckles, “Was that really the worst thing you said today?” 

Felicity ponders a moment before shaking her head, “No, actually. I can’t repeat what I said to Curtis this afternoon. He had to leave the room he was so uncomfortable. If it was anybody else, I might have had to sit through one of those sexual harassment in the workplace seminars.”  
“Do you know how many times I had to talk to Sheila from HR about you when you were my EA?” Oliver says, a gleam in his eye.

“Really?” Felicity sighs. “That’s why she hates me.” 

Oliver shakes his head. “She just doesn’t appreciate your...unique way of talking.” 

“Not many do,” Felicity replies.

“I do,” Oliver says quickly. “It’s always been one of my favorite things about you.” 

Felicity looks at him a moment, and a pit forms in Oliver’s stomach as if he’s gone too far, but her phone rings, and it’s Mr. Dennis. She groans in frustration as she takes it, and the moment is gone, but Oliver still can’t help but smile. 

***

A month after the garbage disposal clog, and Oliver has been over to the loft no less than five times to fix various things around the loft, like the french doors that open to the terrace sticking, among other repairs. 

Oliver never says no when Felicity asks for help, and with each time she asks, there’s a bit more playfulness in her voice that hasn’t been there in ages. 

A small part of him wonders if she’s trying to find things wrong around the loft so he comes over. Surely, an MIT graduate and all around genius should be able to do most of these things. 

But he’s not about to point that out. 

When he hangs new curtain rods in the master bedroom and she offers to order Thai food, he instead offers to cook, making a face at the sheer amount of takeout Felicity eats. 

“What’s wrong with takeout?” Felicity asks. 

“You do like your arteries unclogged, right?” Oliver asks. “You do realize how much sodium you eat, right?”

Felicity rolls her eyes, “Fine, fine. What do you suggest, Master Chef?” 

Oliver looks over her pantry and refrigerator before grabbing his keys. “I’ll be back in a half hour.” In the hallway walking to the elevator, Oliver tries to shake off the deja vu. It’s tried and true bickering from their relationship about Felicity’s awful eating habits. 

They’re getting their rhythm back, Oliver realizes. They can talk to one another again without overthinking every word that comes out of their mouths. 

He finds he can breathe again. 

***

The next time Felicity asks him over he’s fixing a leaky sink pipe in the guest bathroom. He watches the youtube clip of the fix five times before going over. If anything, he’s becoming really confident in his handyman abilities. If the mayor thing doesn’t pan out, this might. 

“Hey,” Felicity stands in the bathroom door, “Do I need to do anything to the chicken right now?” 

Oliver is underneath the sink on his back, so he can only see Felicity’s legs. His heart flutters a bit. Dinner was totally her idea, ingredients bought and everything. “No, it’s good right now,” he calls out to her.

“Okay,” Felicity says, but it doesn’t sound like she’s moving from the doorway.

Oliver sees her lower body shift, like she’s leaning on the doorway, crossing one leg over the other. He ignores her, continuing to work, grunting a bit as he twists the wrench to tighten the coupling nut, the hem of his shirt rising a bit.

It’s then he hears the small sigh of contentment from the doorway, and a smirk pulls on his lips. Oliver’s not dumb. He’s always been very aware of Felicity’s appreciation for his body. It’s why he only ever did the salmon ladder when she was around. It’s also why he turns the wrench in the opposite direction, and asks Felicity to turn the water on. 

Water all over his face and shirt ends up being worth it. Felicity bites her lip so hard she nearly draws blood, and Oliver knows he’s gotten under her skin. She’s a stammering mess as he pulls the wet t-shirt off.

“Oh, you’re so wet,” she says, ears pink, staring directly at his abs. 

Oliver nods, “Yup.” He takes a step forward, wet t-shirt in hand, but makes no move to grab a towel. 

“It’s all over...all of you,” Felicity gestures in the general direction of his chest. 

“Yup,” Oliver says again, trying very hard not to smile. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna,” Felicity takes a cautious step forward and picks Oliver’s shirt out of his hand, carefully not touching him. “I’ll put this in the dryer. I think I might have a shirt of yours. I mean you left a shirt or something.” Completely flustered, Felicity runs out of the bathroom. 

Oliver chuckles as he slips back under the sink to re-tighten the coupling nut like he should have in the first place, and then grabs his tools and heads out to the kitchen to check on dinner. 

He should feel bad, preening like that for her, but he’s pretty sure she’s reaching for reasons for him to come over, so making her fluster is fair game. It’s been so long since they’ve been comfortable with one another, and he’s basking in it. The best part of their relationship has always been the foundation of it all, their friendship. 

Felicity returns a few moments later, an old gray t-shirt of his in her hands. Oliver thanks her for it and slips it over his head, caught off guard at the fresh scent- lavender with hints of vanilla. This shirt hasn’t been at the back of the closet or the bottom of the drawer. It’s been recently worn. 

Felicity gives another one of those long looks at him, wheels clearly turning in her head. Finally, she asks, “Should I open a red or a white?” 

The past few months, Oliver has tried very hard not to fantasize about a reconciliation with Felicity. But they’ve been spending so much time together, just the two of them, remnants of last summer, and his heart aches for it. For Bali. For Her. 

“Whichever you want,” Oliver says, and watches her peruse the wine.

He can’t initiate it though, he knows that. It has to be her decision, and so he just has to wait.

“How about a red?” Felicity says and pulls out a wine they first shared together in Positano. He tries not to read too much into it.

But then she opens the drawer next to him, looking for the corkscrew, her arm brushes up against his ever so slightly. She doesn’t tense up or jerk away. Felicity just gives him a shy smile and moves away to grab the wine glasses. 

Oliver has never been a patient man, but for her, he’ll take the slow, small moments and let his hope, and hers, regain strength. 

He’ll wait for her, always.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @kayleegee-writes


End file.
